Sherlock Holmes Returns
by Howling Shadow
Summary: It's JohnLock time guys, I love this so much, so just read and give me some feed back, if you want. :  Cheers


**Hey, Thought I'd write another JohnLock, cause they are my number one OTP, along with Eleven/Amy (Doctor Who FTW). I enjoyed writing this and if you could I'd love some feedback, cheers for reading :)**

**~ HS**

Sherlock Holmes had spent three years fighting Jim Morairty's men. He broke each and every thread, till it was like Jim had never existed. Sherlock was tired and desperate to get home, back to Mr Hudson, his landlady a good friend to him. Lestrade, a kind but stupid D.I. who gave him cases. But most of all John, his best friend, the kindest man he'd ever met. Sherlock had missed him so much, he didn't know it was possible. All he knew was when he saw John he was giving him the biggest hug he could, yes he would get a punch or two to the face, but he would take that.

Sherlock made his way towards 221B, it didn't look any different. The pavement was still the same colour with odd bits of rubbish floating and skidding along the stone. He took a deep breathe and opened the door, he'd made sure Mrs. Hudson had gone out, he didn't want to scare her. So he crept up the stairs where his friend was waiting. Sherlock stepped carefully over the creaky step and walked towards the door. He took out his key and opened the door to meet a bewildered John Watson.

John's eyes were as round as saucers, filled with terror.

'Sherlock?' He muttered before falling into Sherlock's arms, unconscious. Sherlock lifted the man in his arms, over to the couch, laying him down.

Sherlock Holmes Returns

John opened his eyes slowly, it must have been a dream, of course it was Sherlock was dead, he knew that. It wasn't like this was the first time John had seen Sherlock, sometimes it would be in his dreams or in the mirrors. It scared him but he didn't tell anyone, not even Mycroft, who visited him a lot, maybe out of pity. Mycroft would probably have him sent to a unit somewhere, all he wanted was Sherlock back, that was the last thing he needed.

He raised his body from the couch, yawning as he stood. It was time for a cuppa. He needed one, the sweet tasting liquid flowing down his throat is enough to calm him. John closes his eyes stretching out his limbs, he could swear he heard a creak or two, God he must be getting old. Twisting his body to face the kitchen he opened his eyes, he let out an inhuman noise, Sherlock was perched at the table, a freshly made cup of tea sitting in front of him.

Sherlock's eyes were the same as ever, ice blue but not cold, anything but cold. His curly hair messy almost crazy, like the man himself. He hadn't slept in ages, even a man like John could tell. The pale contrast of his skin, mixed with the dark circles under his eyes, gave a weakness that showed to John. Sherlock was showing him what it was like being away from him. The pain was evident from his eyes, the cold glare gone, exchanged with a warm, almost healthy glow.

'Hello John'

John couldn't find the words to speak, he must be dreaming, any minute now he would wake up and find the kitchen empty. God knows it had happened before, he would cry and after he would try his best to forget. It never worked. Dreams were the only places he could talk to Sherlock now and they would be the only place he could finally tell him what he was feeling.

'John, It's me, Sherlock, I've come back. I've come home.'

John let out a choked sob and fell to his knees. Sherlock jumped from the table and followed suit. John came apart in front of Sherlock. Before his best friend had died he had been a hard man to break, now he wasn't so sure.

'I came back' he said as he sat on the floor next to his friend, reading his emotions like a book. 'Why didn't you come back before?' tears still ran from John's eyes, he seemed unable to stop.'I had to deal with a few problems' John gave him a terrified look.' Don't worry it's all fine now. I promise.''You're really back? This isn't just a trick, I'm not going to wake up find it was all a dream.''It isn't a dream, this is real. I don't know how to prove to you that I'm real. But I am and I'm not going anywhere. I will only leave when you want me too.'

Sherlock silently prayed that John wouldn't. John was the only think keeping him sane.'I don't ever want you to leave, but you always do, it's always the way.''What do you mean?' he asked puzzled.'I mean I see you a lot, you talk to me. Stupidly I talk back, then when I'm about to tell you something important you disappear, in a puff of smoke almost. It's not fair.''Disappear. I promise I won't, not this time. I know for a fact that I won't. What do you normally try and tell me?''I can't tell you, you'll leave me.'He grabbed his friends hands. 'I promise I won't.'

John flinched away.'Wait your touching me, you've never done that before.''Doesn't this prove I'm real.''Yes it does. You know that I'm going to kill you, but right now I'll settle for a hug.' He threw his arms around Sherlock and sobbed into his scarf, everything was going to be okay.

Sherlock Holmes Returns He had been back for a day now, and John didn't let him out of his sight. At first he didn't even let him go out, but he soon did. This was going to take a lot to get used to. But he would, of course he would. One ordinary day everything changed again.

Sherlock wasn't meant to find the note. It was an accident, he was supposed to bin it, he just hadn't gotten around to it. The note was his, he was going to leave this world behind. He had made the date random, and he was sure someone would find him within the hour of departure. But he found it. At first he was curious. Yes well he would be. He reached over and opened the note, it was labelled _To whoever may read this note_. So he did.

The shock ran through him in waves. He felt sick with worry, what had he done to his best friend. His friend that couldn't deal with a few minutes apart from him. His friend that held his hand subconsciously. Sherlock had driven John to suicide. Thank God he had come back when he did. He truly couldn't imagine a world without his blogger. When John did come back home he found his reincarnated friend sitting on the couch with a note in his hands, tears free falling down his pale cheeks. Oh no he hadn't had he. He'd read the note. The note he was supposed to bin. It was strange to see Sherlock so affected by a few words on a piece of paper. He had only seen him emotionally broken once before and even that wasn't as bad as this. It looked like he had a rather big problem to fix. Hopefully he would survive this.

Sherlock turned to John, He was as pale as a ghost, his blue eyes were wide with terror.

'You were going to kill yourself weren't you. Why John? Why try and kill yourself? Here of all places.'

Sherlock was shaking now. He looked so scared, like he was expecting John to take out his gun and end it all right this second. John walked forward and sat down, right next to Sherlock and took his trembling hands in his own.

'Sherlock I will never leave you. I can't stand to think of a world without you. I barely coped without you. You don't know how may times I wanted to kill myself. But I had to look after the flat. I figured that's what you would have wanted. Plus I kind of adopted your job while you were gone. I've got quite good at deducing people and crime scenes. It was the only thing that bought me close to you. Lestrade gave me a job, I guess he thought it was his job to keep an eye on me. That's what you missed Sherlock, so if you'll just calm down we can start living together again. Sherlock and John, like it always has been.'

During the whole time John was speaking, Sherlock had calmed down. He took deep breaths and stopped shaking. John still had no idea why Sherlock was acting like this. But the two men must have been away from each other for a while, he must have changed and developed while he was on his own.

Sherlock stared down at their entwined hands, he found himself stroking John's fingers. He looked up into John's eyes. John was looking at Sherlock, he had a rather strange expression on his face, it was a mix of happiness and another emotion Sherlock could pick out. John's head moved towards Sherlock, a breath away he stopped. Sherlock closed the gap.

John gasped at the touch, the taste, the warmth of Sherlock. The heat radiated off his body like waves roll up a beach. Sherlock pressed his body forward, leaning on John, wrapping his arms around John's neck. This was what he had wanted ever since he had 'died' for John. Just to kiss those beautiful lips, the touch of skin on skin. Now sex hadn't ever really been on Sherlock's mind, not until John. The idea of being with another human being made him feel physically sick, now he craved the idea. It was only John or course, anybody else would make him retch in disgust.

John pulled Sherlock closer to him, holding him and tugging at his jacket, wanting more. John Watson had always considered himself heterosexual, he had never doubted this. Until Sherlock Holmes walked into his life. Now he wasn't gay of course he wasn't, no he couldn't be, he hadn't felt like this for any other man, just Sherlock. So that means he had no label, or if he had to have one he would be 'Sherlocked'.

Sherlock pulled back from his first kiss, his first kiss from the man he…liked? Was that even the right word.

'Sherlock…I..'

'John I'm sorry…I didn't mean t-…'

Sherlock was cut off by John pushing him back into the couch, lips catching his mouth, causing gasps and moans to fill the air, he moved his mouth in time with his body. Fingers alight with electricity, burning Sherlock's skin. Pulling bits of clothing off, prodding his tongue into Sherlock's mouth with fever. John tasted every molecule of Sherlock's body, pure fire racing in his veins. Hips are flushed against each other. Thrusting heat too luxurious for anyone man. Moans filled the air and clothes were thrown around, no barriers just pure contact. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he panted in time with his flatmate. Louder and louder, hotter and hotter, the flat had turned into a void, John and Sherlock were the only people in the world at that time, no-one else mattered. It was anger, that's what drove John. Yes pleasure was a big part in sex but, Sherlock had made him angry. Sherlock had jumped off a roof and 'died' for three years. No word or contact given. Just heartbreak and the pain of losing the one you love. Did John love Sherlock? He looked down at the man he was making love with, his soft brown eyes met Sherlock's beautiful blue ones. Sherlock smiled and groaned John's name again and again. Yes undoubtedly Yes. He loved Sherlock Holmes, always had always will. So as he reached his end the only name that could ever be on his lips again was yelled. Sherlock.

After the best and only sex Sherlock had ever had he and John cuddled together on the couch, dressed a little more than they were before. Sherlock had something playing on his mind. Three little words begged to be said. Sherlock had never known what these words meant, he had never needed to. He didn't know if he actually felt what people called love. It was when John looked at him in the middle of their lovemaking with such adoration, it made his heart swell. He loved John Watson and now was a perfect time to say it.

'I'm sorry about that' sighed John.

'I bet I ruined your first time. I was just so angry and I needed you so much.' Sherlock just stared at him, an eyebrow raised. 'You don't have to say anything.'

'John?' said Sherlock, completely ignoring what John had just said.

'Yes, Sherlock.'

'I have something I need to tell you, I never knew how to say it, or if I even felt it. But seeing you so…so… happy and elated, it made me realise that it was there all along.'

'What Sherlock what is it?'

'John Hamish Watson, I do believe that I, Sherlock Holmes, am in love with you. And I don't think you ruined my first time at all, I thought it was amazing, please tell me it's not like that all the time?'

This time John ignored Sherlock, he had no need to answer that question it was obvious and he was sure Sherlock would be dieing to find out.

'Oh Sherlock, you don't know how long I've wanted to here those words come from your mouth. It was only ever in dreams I heard such wonderful words. I love you too you stupid man, come here.'

John pulled Sherlock's mouth to his, he could really get used to this.

John may be 'Sherlocked', but Sherlock was 'Johnlocked', no matter what he said in his defence.

**So that was it. I hope you all liked that, I certainly loved writing it. Review if you want, I don't mind :) **

**~ HS **


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